


Anyway, I've Been There

by AubreyGuim



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 20:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20513129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AubreyGuim/pseuds/AubreyGuim
Summary: Hazel and Lilianne have hated each other for as long as they've known each other because they like the same person, Lucas Anders.When Lucas suddenly tells them that he has a girlfriend, they're both heartbroken. No one else gets it. No one else wants to. It's just the two of them and in the process of avoiding Lucas, they end up constantly lumped together.Because of this, they have to face the horrifying realisation thathey, she's not that bad.





	1. Chapter 1

“Lucas,” Lilianne greets through grit teeth, “late again,” she continues, just barely holding back a growl while he pants, obviously coming from a long run. He straightens slightly, sends her a shaky smile, like he thinks it’s apology enough.

And usually, it should be, but he’s been late 5 times. This week. It’s Wednesday.

Lilianne glares coldly.

His shoulders fall, and he grins sheepishly before collapsing into the seat to her left. This only causes her ire to rise more, because he should be to her right but he isn’t. Because it has been taken by Hazel who had elected to simply because Lucas was so late everyone thought he wasn’t coming at all.

Lilianne clenches her fists under the table. If he had just been here she wouldn’t have been forced to seat herself next to the insufferable, smug, arrogant little shit that was Hazel Ivanes. Which he seems to realise as soon as he sits down, directly across from the girl. His eyes widen, Lilianne can actually see all of his thoughts pass through his face, and all of them lead to one conclusion: oh shit.

As far as Lilianne knows, Lucas and Hazel have never had any problems with each other, in fact, they seem to get along commendably, but he knows very well that Hazel and Lilianne do not like one another. He often serves as a buffer, and seems to have accepted it as a formal part of his position, because when he fails, he is faced with the ire of both women.

“I was—” he stammers, shifting uneasily in his seat. He looks to her, pleading, with eyes that he knows make him so very easy to forgive.

Lilianne looks down and away, knowing with absolute certainty that if she meets his gaze she won’t be able to keep her focus. She breathes out through her nose, slowly, deliberately, then turns back to him, “What could be so important that my Vice President would forget the meeting he himself called?”

“I was just—” he starts, stuttering in a way that is entirely uncharacteristic. He looks adorably flustered and Lilianne can feel her heart flutter before she snaps out of it, she glances at Hazel from the corner of her vision, and finds the other girl already looking at her. His behaviour is curious and they’ve both noticed. She opens her mouth to ask more before she’s cut off.

“No matter,” Hazel dismisses easily, which makes Lilianne even more irritated because it is not her place to dismiss such issues, but lets it go. Lilianne ducks her head in agreement, flexing her fingers and ignoring the ache of the crescent shapes pressed into her palm from her nails. She looks to her right to show Lucas he’s forgiven but finds him stiff and his shoulders tension-filled. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, blue eyes trained to his feet, his attractive features indecisive and conflicted.

“No,” Lucas asserts suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention easily. He’s a calm, easy going person, usually quite content to go along with whatever decisions Lilianne has made, merely choosing to use his position to execute such orders, not carry any out, which is why his outburst is so shocking. “I want to tell you guys.”

Hazel leans forward in her seat, knocking against Lilianne, her long brown hair, in a braid today, falling over Lilianne’s shoulder, but Lilianne makes no move to push her away or lean away, knowing it’ll only delight the other girl by showing she is bothered. “What is it then?” Hazel asks, voice soft, knowing Lucas is serious. She sounds both nervous and concerned, and Lilianne has to bite her lip to keep herself from repeating the other girl’s sentiment and sounding like a parrot.

Lucas smiles placatingly, his handsome features lighting up, and Lilianne feels herself relax, because if he’s smiling it isn’t anything bad. She can see Hazel’s shoulders slackening with relief as well.

He takes a deep breath, looking at everyone around the table to make sure they’re paying attention and Lilianne’s chest seizes at the action, he’s obviously very happy about whatever it is he’s about to share and she loves it when he’s like this. Ever since becoming Vice President he’s been less likely to smile, what with all the responsibilities he’s suddenly had to shoulder, but when he’s like this he seems carefree again, like they were before all this. His eyes settle on hers briefly, and she smiles encouragingly. He nods at her, obviously relieved to have her backing him.

“Mia agreed to be my girlfriend!” He blurts, obviously overjoyed.

Lilianne can actually feel her heart shoot up to her throat and her stomach drop down to her feet. She opens her mouth, then closes it, and doesn’t know what to say. Hazel laughs slightly, and it sounds strained even to Lilianne but Lucas doesn’t even seem to notice.

“You,” Lilianne starts, trailing off and trying not to let her voice break, “I didn’t even know you were asking Mia out,” she finally manages.

Lucas’ eyebrows furrow, and he looks down, “I don’t know,” he starts, shrugging helplessly, “I guess it just felt wrong to tell you about what girl I was chasing,” he says, picking at his nails the way Lilianne knows he does when he feels guilty. Maybe it’s because you know I’ve liked you since we were six years old, she thinks to herself bitterly. He looks up and Lilianne can’t bear to meet his gaze, “you’re not mad, are you?”

Lilianne doesn’t know how to answer, just stares at him for a couple seconds, his wide, guileless eyes, earnest and concerned. Hazel’s sharp intake of breath next to her is the only thing that brings her back to earth. “Of course not,” Lilianne manages, biting the inside of her cheek so hard she can feel the skin breaking, “god, I’m just happy for you,” she says, her saliva is thick and tasting strongly of iron. Hazel jolts, then smiles too, too wide, too perfect, Lilianne has to turn away to avoid wincing in sympathy.

“I’m glad she said yes,” Hazel assures. Lilianne thinks she hasn’t heard voice that fake since the campaign.

“I admit I was blindsided but I truly am happy for you,” Lilianne says, falsely, “Mia is a wonderful girl.”

He smiles, “Yeah,” Lucas agrees, “yeah she really is.” 

Salt in the wound, Lilianne thinks, that one was just cruel.

“I told you,” Henrick, the treasurer, blurts, “I told you being on Student Council would get you a girl!”

Lilianne rolls her eyes, and Hazel scoffs, “You also said you’d be getting girls by now,” Hazel retorts, “but still just you, your hand and your mama as far as I can see.”

It sounds sharper than it would usually be, the friendly banter’s turned cold and Hazel’s mood is plain for anyone to see. Lilianne knows immediately by the tone of Hazel’s voice that they won’t be getting any more work done today, with Lucas so excited he can’t focus and Hazel angry and sullen, and Henrick being his usual disruptive self. Especially since she herself doesn’t want to continue. Lilianne sighs, resting a hand flat against the top of the table. Everyone quiets. “Enough, Hazel,” she says, and her voice sits heavy in the air of the room, “I think this meeting is just about finished, go on home everyone.”

Lucas looks at her curiously but Lilianne surreptitiously ignores it. He stands along with the rest of them and begins packing his bag. Lilianne mimics their actions, but knows she is staying behind.


	2. Chapter 2

When the door closes behind the last member, Lilianne’s bag clatters noisily to the floor, and she collapses into the couch in the corner of the room. Exhaustion seeps into her bones, was she this tired before he told them? She buries her head into her hands, and then presses her forehead into her lap. “What the fuck was that?” She asks into the open air, still slightly disbelieving. Tears threaten to spill, burn at the edges of her vision.

She wishes she could hate him, but he never promised her anything.

No, all he did was make her feel beautiful, and special, but he never promised her anything.

She was the one who damned herself, by thinking he was hers. Whoever’s up there watching is laughing at her.

_Motherfucker_ she’s _crying_.

He didn’t even notice, she knows. When he said it he was too happy to even notice how fucked up she was. How her voice had gone hoarse and broken, how she’d looked away. He didn’t notice anything.

She’s almost embarrassed when the first sob spills, but she’s alone. There’s no one to see how her shoulders curve into her body, how her chin hits her chest. Her nails dig into her shin, and she ignores the feeling of wetness licking at her fingertips.

She can’t hate him, and she can’t even hate Mia because she really is a wonderful girl, and they’re fucking perfect for one another. She can’t hate anyone but herself, and she does. So bad. She hates how she never made a move, how she never kissed him when they studied together, how she didn’t say anything, hates how she wasn’t ever enough.

She grabs the nearest thing to her and throws it across the room.

She hears a shatter, but she doesn’t look. There’s blood on the tips of her fingers, and when she looks down she sees crescent shaped wounds on her legs, four on each. They light up with pain now that she sees them, and tiny rivulets of red trickle down the length of her legs. They throb angrily, she feels like she’s being mocked. This entire thing feels ridiculous, like the worst plot twist in history and she’s the butt of the joke. She’d expected them to be it, to be the real ending, the couple that makes it, despite being incredibly slow burn—

The door opens.

___

Outside, Hazel paces. One, two, three, four, five, six, _turn_. One, two, three, four, five, six, _turn_. She pulls at the edges of her blouse, which she’d untucked a while ago, then tugs at the ends of her braid. She didn’t even know, not a little bit. Not at all.

_Was he with her all those times he was late?_

She stops pacing. The campus is not big enough to warrant being late to meetings because he was coming from classes. He wasn’t with her, he wasn’t with Lilianne, he was with Mia. 

She feels the all-too-familiar warning lump in her throat, the morbidly tell-tale burn at the corners of her eyes. She is in public for Christ’s sake. She can’t cry here. She will not let herself cry here.

She closes her eyes and pulls in air, deep and unwilling. In her lungs it feels like water, and it wants to come up so bad. Her chest is heavy with the weight of it, and her legs are locked at the knee, but otherwise weak.

That bastard, he’s making her cry. He’s making her pace, and unravel herself in public. She bites her knuckle, hard enough to hear the distinct pop of her joint and the pain is there, but detached.

_Motherfucker_ she’s going to cry. She’s going to fucking cry.

He was never hers to lose, but she feels like she’s lost.

She lets her knees unlock and she curls up against the same pillar she’d thrown her bag

against. She reaches up and undoes her braid, it’s too tight and it’s giving her a headache. As soon as her hair falls over her face, she cries.

Then she looks up.


	3. Chapter 3

“Lilianne?” 

Fuck. It really just has to be him.

God does exist. And he does so only to laugh.

“Lucas?” Lilianne tries, straightening slowly, and trying to wipe at her eyes before he notices.

He’s not alone. 

“And Mia?” Lilianne continues belatedly, blinking in surprise.

Because _of course_.

They step closer and it’s then that Lilianne realises she’d closed the lights and they can’t see her just yet. Thank Christ for tiny mercies. She crosses her legs and pushes her hair back. 

“What’s up?” He asks, concern flooding his voice, “why’re you still here? And in the dark?”

What conceivable reason could she possibly have for sitting alone in the dark. “Homework,” Lilianne blurts, and then realises that there is no lie worse than the one she’s come up with. She cringes preemptively, waiting for the Worried Lucas to come out and scold her for lying to him.

“In the dark?” he sounds incredulous and teasing, gesturing with one hand while the other is inside Mia’s. He knows she’s bullshitting, but he’s letting it go.

_Does he even care anymore?_

“I’m sorry for messing with your plans,” Lilianne says, consciously shifting back as they come closer, blinking back tears, “I’ll go.” She stands, realising too late that they’re too close, she ends up face to face with Mia. She forces out a laugh, but it comes out high and weird. She turns slightly to hide the wince, then tries to side step before Mia takes her by the shoulder.

“It’s completely fine,” she smiles warmly, “I’m not even supposed to be here,” she continues, giggling behind her hand. “Plus, who could show me around the student council room better than the President herself?”

God fucking _damnit_. Damn it all.

Lilianne closes her eyes and deliberately breathes in and out. “Of course,” she answers as gracious as she can manage, reaching down for the remote for the lights only to realise that that’s what she’d thrown against the wall earlier. She doesn’t try to laugh because she already knows it’ll sound strained, “I don’t know where the light switches have gone,” she lies, better than the last time because she actually is embarrassed about it.

“They’re usually on the couch,” Lucas reminds her, this time actually sounding worried. “you’re sure you’re alright?”

Lilianne flushes, letting out a weak chuckle and pretending to brush dirt off her shoulder, “Of course,” she says, God, why is her voice _doing_ that? “I’m fine, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong.”

They both stare at her.

“Okay,” Lucas says, like he’s talking a man off the edge of a building, “do you need us to get you anything?” 

A beat.

“The lights?” Lilianne suggests, trying to come off joking. Maybe she succeeds because Mia’s giggling into her palm and Lucas is doing that little shoulder shake where he doesn’t laugh out loud but just seems amused.

She’s in the clear.

Light floods the room, and she’s temporarily blinded by it, having to blink rapidly for a second to let it sink in. Mia gasps.

“Lilianne you’re bleeding.” God fucking damnit.

___

Hazel watches Lucas and Mia walk hand in hand into the Student Council room. _Probably going to make out with his new girlfriend on his desk_, Hazel thinks bitterly, _God I hope Lilianne makes him pay for it_.

Lilianne.

_—Lilianne’s still in there._

Hazel’s standing up before she knows it. She hates Lilianne’s guts, hates her a whole fucking lot but the reason for most of that hatred was because they both wanted Lucas, and now, well, they’ve got no reason to be fighting on opposite sides.

_Am I really going to do this?_

She hears girlish laughter on the other side of the door. Too high to be Lilianne’s. She’s going to fucking do this.

___

Hazel walks in.

Lilianne has never been so grateful for her.

_Crunch._

“Is that broken glass?” Mia asks, sounding both shocked and concerned.

Hazel freezes, then straightens, directing a beatific smile at the questioning girl, “Yes,” she says, shooting Lilianne a quick _what the fuck_ look that no one else sees before getting back into character and rolling her eyes exasperatedly. “A little accident occurred shortly before you guys came in.”

“I saw a cockroach—” Lilianne starts at the same time as Hazel.

“I opened the door too fast and hit—” Hazel cuts off, sending an irritated look Lilianne’s way before restarting, “she saw a cockroach and she started screaming,” Hazel course corrects, “I heard and opened the door too fast while she was throwing something and,” Hazel pauses, shrugging in a manner that somehow accurately conveys _what can you do_, “well,” she says pushing out a chuckle that’s too similar to how Lilianne was forcing hers, “that happened.”

She’s got her braid undone, her shirt is half untucked, her eyes are red-rimmed, _God what’s wrong with us_, Lilianne thinks, _what has he done to us_.

“Are you okay, Haze?” Lucas asks, taking a step towards her.

Hazel takes a step back, accidentally pressing herself against the door.

“She’s fine,” Lilianne cuts in, purposefully loud, drawing everyone’s attention to her.

Hazel sends her a thankful look, sagging with relief, “just tired,” she continues, “had her running around for me,” she shrugs, wrapping her arms around herself, “my migraines were coming back and I needed her to help me.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Lucas asks, sounding somehow both concerned and hurt at the same time.

Lilianne winces, “I didn’t want to worry you,” she lies, “you were so happy about Mia agreeing to go out with you that I didn’t want to ruin your mood. I thought I could get to the clinic by myself but,” she falls silent, gesturing to the ground.

“She saw the cockroach and got scared,” Hazel continues for her, “she wasn’t even planning on telling me,” she reveals, “I just heard her and then I went to get the janitor after the whole ordeal was over. I was just coming back to take her to the nurse when you guys got here.”

Mia nods, resting a hand on Lilianne’s back, “Take care of her, okay?”

“Wait a second,” Lucas says, “why is Lilianne bleeding, then?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at the two girls, “you two better not have been fighting.”

“We weren’t fighting,” Hazel snaps before taking a breath to calm herself, “and what do you mean she’s bleeding?”

“Right there on her cheek,” Lucas says, pointing at the finger-shaped stain of blood. 

“Wow,” Hazel says, smirking, “Lucas, we don’t judge how women dispose of their feminine hygiene products,” she says, faux-scolding.

“Shut up,” Lilianne grits, “I was trying to clean up the glass by myself and got hurt, I must not have noticed.”

“Hazel,” Mia dotes gently, “she has a migraine, stop making it worse.”

Lilianne has to hold her breath to keep from laughing at the face Hazel makes.

“Come on then,” Hazel says, extending an open palm to Lilianne, “let’s get you to the nurse.”

Lilianne bobs her head in agreement, nods her goodbyes to Mia and Lucas and walks out the door with Hazel.


	4. Chapter 4

They walk in silence, inches a part and steps in sync, both acting as though they’re completely alone. The back of Hazel’s hand brushes against Lilianne’s with every swing. They both let go the moment they passed the door.

“You know,” Hazel says, clearly addressing Lilianne but facing straight forward, “you owe me now.”

Lilianne can’t help the scoff that bursts from her, “I don’t owe you anything.” “Yeah, you do,” Hazel insists, “I totally saved your ass back there.”

“And I saved you right back,” Lilianne argues, “so we’re completely even.” “You saved me because I was saving you,” she points out.

“That was your own choice,” Lilianne snaps, before sighing, “but I suppose it was too much to think you were doing this out of the goodness of your heart,” she says bitterly, “what is it you want?”  
Lilianne knows that she’s just shot herself in the foot the moment the words leave her mouth, but she’s too tired and too hurt to fight back. An hour ago she’d have never admitted she’d owed Hazel anything, but right now, in this moment, it just doesn’t feel worth it anymore. Pride, or whatever it was that kept her from giving in and surrendering at any moment suddenly seems trivial—useless. Pride does nothing to protect her from the pain, nothing to heal it either, and she’s exhausted.

___

This is probably the best time to be petty, Hazel knows, she should have jumped at the chance, would have just an hour ago. She still might, but it seems needlessly cruel now, in light of recent events. Lilianne doesn’t even seem willing to fight back, just ready to give her anything she wants to get it over with.

“I want to hear you curse,” Hazel says after a beat too long to be anything but hesitation. Hazel sees Lilianne look up in her peripheral vision but continues to face straight forward. “I think I deserve to hear it,” she says imperiously, but smirking just wide enough that Lilianne can see it even if she doesn’t turn, “after all that’s happened today I think I deserve to hear it and you deserve to say it.”

Lilianne’s gaping at her, Hazel knows because she’s watching their reflection in the classroom windows they pass, and she has to bite back a laugh.

Lilianne doesn’t curse. Ever. Not even on accident. 

“No,” Lilianne says after a moment, tipping her chin up. It’s still just a shadow of who she was this morning, but it’s a step. “I’ve already lost my Presidential Air of Mystery,” she grouses, “I can’t lose my poise as well.”

Hazel laughs, it’s loud, but hollow. If Lilianne notices, she pretends she doesn’t and for that Hazel is grateful. “The fact that you think you had any mystery or poise in the first place is hilarious,” she comments.

“Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t vote for me,” Lilianne warns, “because I know you did.”

A beat.

“How do you know that?” Hazel asks, finally turning to look at Lilianne. 

“Ping,” Lilianne sounds off, looking far too smug, “there’s that Presidential Air of Mystery you said I didn’t have.”

“Still missing the poise,” Hazel points out.

“Am I?” Lilianne asks, tilting her head to the side teasingly. When the orange sunlight hits her eyes just right they look fluorescent. A sliver of light like a ring of silver fire around her pupil.

Hazel laughs.

When it peters out they are silent. Outside, the cicadas sing.

“It all seems a little funny at this point,” at Hazel’s incredulous look Lilianne hastens to continue, “we hated each other for a really long time—”

“A year,” Hazel cuts in.

“That’s a pretty long time for us since we’ve only been alive for 16,” Lilianne retorts. Hazel snorts, “Semantics.”

“They make all the difference,” Lilianne responds.

They’re quiet.

“I get what you mean though,” she says, slowly coming to a stop. Lilianne does the same.

“It’s a special kind of pointless,” Hazel says, “the type you don’t even see until it’s too late.” 

“And wow are we late,” Lilianne agrees.

Hazel sighs and walks backwards until her back hits one of the pillars of the archway leading into the courtyard. She slides down the length of it, then lets her legs splay out like a limp doll. 

Lilianne glances down the hallway, briefly contemplates just walking away, but already knows she’s staying. The thought crosses her mind barely a quarter of a second before it’s dismissed.

Lilianne drops into a crouch in front of Hazel and eyes her for a moment before giving up. She shoulders her to the side. “Make room.” 

Hazel obliges, moving what might actually be .5 of an inch. Lilianne sits anyway.

“Misery loves company,” Hazel suddenly announces to the open air, avoiding looking at Lilianne even as they’re shoulder to shoulder. If Lilianne looks hard enough, she can spy a sad smile playing at Hazel’s lips, but she tries hard not to because if it were her she’d want Hazel to pretend she didn’t see. “And what are we if not miserable?” Hazel continues.

Lilianne can’t help the snort that escapes her. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” 

“A cease fire,” Hazel says, “please,” because she’s actually begging. She’s tired too, more than she thought she could be when she hasn’t actually done anything to make herself tired, but she can feel it down to the skin of her fingertips.

The smile that graces Lilianne’s mouth is wry, painful to look at because you can feel how exhausted she is, sympathetic in a way that’s too familiar to be anything but the hurt of someone who’s been there. It’s the look two people share when they’re falling off a cliff together. _I’m so sorry this is happening to you_, it says, _I’m so sorry this is happening to us_.

“I can’t imagine any reason to keep fighting after,” Lilianne stops, the way someone does when they’ve got that lump in their throat. Hazel knows the feeling. “After we’ve ascertained that all of it was useless in the first place.”

“So,” Hazel starts, “it’s official then?”

“I guess it is,” Lilianne says, and can’t help herself from wondering about how long hours are and how this one just changed a lot of things, too many things. Her phone buzzes. Outside, the cicadas continue to sing.

Lilianne stands.

“I have piano lessons to attend to,” she says, surprised to find that she actually regrets having to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Hazel says, echoing the statement.

Lilianne bites her lip, then starts to walk away. Then, she stops, closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and starts before she can change her mind. “Oh,” she says, “thank you for saving my fucking ass.”

Hazel’s head whips around so fast Lilianne is sure there must be a tiny bit of whiplash as repercussion for it. She hears laughter as she turns the corner.


	5. Chapter 5

“Okay,” Lilianne says, rubbing the bridge of her nose in between her index and thumb, “first order of business,” she starts, putting her coffee cup down. It _sloshes_ threateningly, but she can’t care enough to be scared about it spilling, “the fair.” 

“We have a week before it happens,” Lucas points out, leaning back in his chair and chewing on the end of his pen, “and we’ve done large number of preparations alrea—”

“Three booths pulled out,” Lilianne says, cutting him off purposefully. She can’t bear to hear his voice right now. You’d know this if you showed up on time yesterday, she can’t help but think, “we need to figure out how to replace them.”

“It’s just three booths,” Henrick argues, “we have like 62 more. What’s the point?” 

“When we made the advertisements we boasted 65 booths,” Hazel explains, as patiently as she can, “and their names were listed first because they were sure to pull revenue.” 

“Exactly,” Lilianne says, tapping a nail on the table, and even the remnants of background noise fall silent at her call to attention, “we need to find replacements with the same type of popularity.” 

“Who pulled out?” Lucas asks, peering at the list under her hand. 

Lilianne pulls her hand away, “The marriage booth,” she starts, recalling the conversation yesterday with difficulty, it feels like a long time ago, “one of the carnival booths, I don’t remember which one,” she continues, then struggles to come up with the third name.

“It was the shooting one,” Hazel cuts in, apparently reading the minutes she’d taken from yesterday’s meeting, “and the kissing booth, which we were kind of relying on for the marketing, so,” she pauses, twirling a pen in between her fingers, “we’re relatively fucked.” 

“Why did they pull out?” Henrick asks. Lilianne has to clench her fist to keep from hitting the back of his head with a news paper. 

“Were you even here yesterday?” Hazel snaps, glaring at him heatedly. Henrick blinks, caught off guard by the sudden hostility. 

“Hazel,” Lilianne warns, even though she wholeheartedly agrees, “that’s enough. Get a coffee.” 

Hazel reaches over and takes the cup next to Lilianne’s hand, then maintains eye contact as she tips it up and takes a drink. The other members around the table gape. Lilianne only sighs. 

“You’re paying me back for that,” she says simply. She’s too tired to even be angry. Hazel snorts. 

“We’ll do this in pairs, Henrick you’ll be with—” Lilianne pauses, _Henrick and Hazel would end up killing each other_, she thinks, _but putting Hazel with Lucas is just cruel and I don’t want to be with Lucas either_. She flushes when she realises the entire table is waiting on her next word. Lilianne stops, and decides.

She looks at Hazel, then tilts her head, _the choice is yours_, she’s saying. Hazel’s eyes widen, _seriously?_ she’s asking. Lilianne nods. Hazel looks at Henrick, scowls, then looks at Lucas and winces. She turns her stare on Lilianne, looks conflicted for a moment, expression bare and honest with her concerns, Lilianne can actually see her thoughts plainly. She takes a breath, then cocks her chin forward. Lilianne gapes. 

_Me?_ She thinks, confused. Hazel nods, avoiding eye contact. Lilianne frowns, but accepts this. 

“Lucas,” she finishes belatedly. “Hazel, you’re with me,” she continues, ignoring the shocked and bewildered looks that everyone wears after she says it. 

“Are you—” Henrick starts to say, looking so truly confused Lilianne wants to slap him.

“I’m sure,” Lilianne says, right over his voice, “Lucas, you take the lead, you and Henrick find contingency plans and booths that could replace those three and continue advertisement,” she commands, “in the mean time, don’t mention any of the booths that pulled out but still emphasise the 65 booths because the size of the fair is the main selling point,” she reminds, knowing that if she doesn’t neither of the boys are reliable to remember, “Hazel and I will continue over general preparations and see if we can solve the problems that led to the three booths pulling out.” 

“Objections?” Lilianne asks, then blatantly ignores Henrick’s raised hand, “good. Regular meeting schedules are to be followed.”

___

“The cabinet is out of the closet,” Hazel reports drily, scrolling through what appears to be her Tumblr dashboard. Lilianne pretends not to see so she doesn't have to reprimand the girl.

“You two got it out?” Henrick asks, shock ringing clearly in his voice. Lilianne narrows her eyes at him.

“Did you expect anything less?” She questions. 

“Of course not,” Lucas interjects, putting his hand on Henrick’s chest and smiling placatingly, “just that we didn’t think you’d get it done that quickly.” 

Lilianne puts a hand down and almost immediately after Hazel’s comes down on top of it. It’s a mocking little high five and Lilianne bites her tongue to keep from laughing at the look on the boys faces.

___

They don't really talk about it. Lilianne goes into the room they're supposed to be cleaning out and counts out all the things they have to pull out. The next day when she comes back, list in hand, one side has less furniture than the day before. Lilianne takes one side, Hazel takes the other, and every other day Lilianne comes back to find less and less. The room gets emptier and emptier until a single cabinet lies in the center. 

That cabinet is currently the bane of Lilianne's fucking existence. 

"Sir, there's just no way I'm going to be able to get that cabinet out of the room," Lilianne says, forcing a civil tone. She's explained it twice already, but the principal badly needs to clean his ears. He rolls his eyes, and Lilianne can actually feel her own face twitch before she manages to school her features. The nerve of this oaf. 

"The measurements say it'll fit through the doorway," he says, again, for what might be the fifth time. Lilianne stopped counting after the third repeat of this conversation. 

Just as Lilianne is taking a breath to reiterate herself, and her position, in the meanest, yet most professional way possible, the door to the office flings itself open in a fashion Lilianne knows too well now, and the sound of thin heels clicking on the cheap laminate flooring has Lilianne stopping. 

"What's this?" A voice asks from behind her. Hazel, because _of course it is_. 

"Miss Grace here has been telling me on and on about how both of you are incapable of moving the cabinet in Storage Room B," he says, and he sounds like he thinks she's just being lazy, or worse, stupid. Lilianne hates it. 

"It's true," Lilianne says, cutting him off because he's called them incompetent one too many times. Hazel's hand on her arm keeps her from completely going off, but she can't help but glare at least. And hate that Hazel is being the calm one. 

"It is, Sir," Hazel says, and Lilianne barely suppresses a victorious smile, "the cabinet should fit through the door, by measurement, but it's impossible to even get it to the door." 

His eyes narrow, and Lilianne has to stop herself from laughing. Did he really think Hazel would agree with him after he called her incapable? 

"Get it done at least two weeks before the fair. I don't care how you do it." 

Lilianne feels Hazel's hand tighten around her forearm, and Lilianne didn't even realise she was still holding on, or that her arm was raising without her conscious command. 

"Fine," Lilianne says, ignoring how Hazel blanches in her peripheral vision.

___

"Fine? Fine?" Hazel hisses at her as soon as the door closes behind them, "he wants it done two weeks before the fair, for no reason, by the way, since the set up for booths begins three days before the fair. We could've gone against that. You know I could have talked him out of it," at this point, Hazel has begun to pace in front of Lilianne, and she's glad for the empty hall because a member of the Student Council should never be seen in such a state. She'd reprimand anyone else, but this is Hazel, and Lilianne knows Hazel probably cares more about her public image than anyone else on the council. More than Lilianne, honestly, so if Hazel deems it safe enough to be losing her shit in the hallway like this, Lilianne will let her. "And—and, in case you haven't noticed, we're exactly two weeks and one day away from the fair. Which, in case you don't understand just yet, means that we have to have it done by tonight." 

"I'm well aware," Lilianne says, laughing slightly at the look it pulls from Hazel, "it's okay, alright? Can you just trust me? You're going to love this." 

"If I don't love this I'm going to hold this against you until we graduate," Hazel says, still off-put but looking strangely pacified by the assurances.

___

Hazel should've known. The mischievous smile, the lack of anger, the direction they were heading. She should've known better.

"Hi Sir," Lilianne says to the teacher managing detention, and Hazel just knows Lilianne has no idea what his name is, "I'm really sorry to be doing this, but may we take your charges off your hands?" 

The teacher's expression switches to pure joy, which he doesn't do anything to hide, but he questions them anyway, because it's his due diligence. "What's happening?" 

"The Student Council will be taking over detention for those here," Lilianne says, and then she smiles and Hazel can hear the entire room sigh in unison. If they knew they wouldn't be so adoring, she thinks to herself, because Lilianne knows exactly what that smile does to people, and she also knows exactly what people would do to get that smile. He doesn't ask anymore questions and bids a hurried goodbye, texting and leaving the room at once. 

As the door closes behind him, Lilianne turns to the students currently staring at them. 

"So here's the deal," Lilianne says, walking forward and sitting herself on the desk, "I don't care how many weeks you have detention for—your service?" she says, making air quotes around the word, "—it ends today." 

A low murmur sweeps through the room, and Hazel takes this as her cue to situate herself next to Lilianne, which only reignites the whispers. Lilianne sways to the side lightly to bump her shoulder against Hazel's in greeting, a gesture friendlier than she's ever received from the girl. 

"You all know Storage Room A," Hazel says, grinning slightly now, "there's a cabinet in there and it's really heavy—it needs to be taken out by tonight." 

"That's your job," Lilianne says, "get it out by the end of the day and your detention time, whether it be three months or a week, it's done by today. Cool?"

___

"You know we don't actually have the authority to kill their detention time?" Hazel asks, leaning back against the back of her chair where they've settled in the empty cafeteria. They'd dumped the troublemakers at the storage room and left after giving them Hazel's phone number to contact them when they'd finished.

"The principal gave us the authority when he said he didn't care how we did it," Lilianne says, "he doesn't care how, as long as it's done, and we're getting it done, aren't we?" 

Hazel shakes her head, smiling, "If only the student body knew what a rebel their president is," she commented. 

Lilianne snorts, "If they knew, I wouldn't be president," she responds, laughing slightly, "they voted for Miss Goody-Two-Shoes." 

"So you admit that isn't you?" Hazel asks curiously.

"I never said that was me though," Lilianne retorts, stealing a fry off Hazel's plate, "everyone just kind of assumes that's who I am, but I never said that. They think I'm the star student, the teacher's pet, and maybe yes that's why they voted for me—but does it matter that I'm none of those things if I get the job done?" 

Hazel grins, "Of course not," she says, taking Lilianne's drink in retaliation, "you're hyper competent and probably overqualified for the job. Just because you don't go easy into pleases and thank-you's doesn't mean you aren't better than anyone else for it." 

"You're such a suck up," Lilianne says, rolling her eyes and snatching her drink back. She lifts it and takes a hasty sip, ducking her head to hide the flush on her cheeks. 

"How did anyone get that idea anyway?" Hazel asks, graciously pretending not to notice, "I've never even seen you in the library and as far as I'm aware, teachers don't favour you at all." 

"Tell me about it," Lilianne laughs, "I wouldn't even know where the library was if it wasn't right next to the Student Council rooms. The whole thing caught fire after Lucas snapped a picture of me reading a book with some thick glasses on while we were at a cafe. I just so happened to be holding a highlighter. He posted it during the start of the campaign and I guess I got lucky with the timing since it wasn't anywhere near exams people thought I was studying just for fun. Thus, the bookworm narrative took flight." 

"That's it?" Hazel asks incredulously, "that's all it took for them to label you the resident nerd princess?" 

"All it took for them to label you the Pretty Secretary was a look at your face," Lilianne says, grinning at the look on Hazel's face, "yeah, I'm well aware of that gimmick." 

"They saw a pretty face," Hazel says, shrugging, "what could I do about it? Wear masks?"

"I don't know," Lilianne says, "but it's almost irritating how well they write you off when they voted your ass into the seat in the first place, it's almost like—"

"They wanted eye candy and not a secretary," Hazel says, smiling wryly, "I know. I get my job done anyway. It doesn't matter." 

"They're really fucking stupid for it though," Lilianne says, snide and sounding like she's above it all. Scratch that—like they're above it all, like Hazel is with her looking down on the rest and it's such a bitchy, Lilianne thing to say, but it's sweet too, in a way that isn't personal enough to be called friendship, but isn't distant enough to be from a stranger.

The words are so carelessly but perfectly given, it feels like being let in, and it sounds like an olive branch. 

It's just the right thing for someone to say, said in the exact right way for people in this limbo Lilianne and Hazel are in, not quite close but not quite far either, and Hazel can't help the laugh that escapes her because only Lilianne. 

"I know," Hazel says, tapping twice on Lilianne's hand. Her phone lights up, and their job is done.


	6. Chapter 6

Maybe it’s a coincidence, but Lilianne’s 90% sure it really isn’t. After yesterday, it seems as though she and Hazel have been crossing paths twice as much as they usually do. Maybe she’s just noticing her more often, after all, after having been jarringly brought together, it’s a solid conclusion, but Lilianne can’t help but feel that just isn’t it. She’s always been hyper aware of Hazel’s presence, in that she always makes a conscious effort to avoid said presence, and is therefore quite adept at sensing it. Which just makes this seem all the more odd. 

When she turns the corner and yet again sees Hazel already walking her path, she can’t help but stare. Have they always taken the same routes? It seems impossible that after two years of having at least three matching classes they’d never see each other before now. 

Is she turning right too—oh my god she is. Wait, why is she slowing down? No, she’s looking right at—Lilianne can’t help but shoot her a sheepish smile, feeling slightly embarrassed after having been caught. Hazel tilts her head to the side and her braid follows closely behind, tumbling over her shoulder in a way that makes Lilianne question the physics of it. 

Lilianne plants her feet and stares back. 

The students heading to their respective classes curve around them and leave a straight line of sight between the two of them. 

To both Lilianne and Hazel’s surprise, Lilianne relents first. She reluctantly begins to walk to Hazel, all the while maintaining complete eye contact. Hazel simply waits, leaning up against the lockers next to her. Lilianne purposefully slows down, just to spite her, at least a little bit. She can’t help herself. 

After several moments too long, Lilianne finally makes it within talking distance. 

“AP Science?” Hazel questions, though they both know she doesn’t actually need an answer. 

Lilianne raises her chin in a movement so small it would be generous to call it a nod, “Surprised to see you,” Lilianne says, beginning to walk towards the classroom without looking to see if Hazel is following. 

“We’ve been in this same class all year,” Hazel responds, “you really shouldn’t be.” 

“Well I’ve never seen you on the way to class before,” Lilianne starts, “despite the fact that we’re both Seniors and our electives are in the east building,” she continues, counting on her fingers, “and that yours ends roughly the same time as mine, and the five minute grace period for going in between classes doesn’t allow for detours, I’ve never seen you,” she finishes listing, “so the only reasonable conclusion is that you’ve been deliberately avoiding me until, that is, now.” 

Hazel pauses, taking it in, then snorts loudly enough to garner at least a few bewildered stares, “Think about it much?”

“You’re not denying it,” Lilianne points out. 

“Because you’re right,” Hazel shrugs, “I was avoiding you, but after our peace accord yesterday, I don’t see the point.” 

“Did you think I’d start a fight in the hallways?” Lilianne asks, offence overriding the shock at Hazel actually admitting it. 

“No,” Hazel says after a moment of consideration, “actually, I was just of the opinion that it’d make it easier to.”

Lilianne smirks, “I sincerely doubt that. You’d have had to make an entirely alternate route and still manage to have it be as fast as the original one.” 

“Actually,” Hazel corrects, “I didn’t make an alternate route,” at Lilianne’s confused look she chuckles, “I walked way behind you, and just waited until you turned corners to hurry up.” 

Lilianne laughs, “That's even worse. Is that why you’re always late?”

“I’ve never actually been late,” Hazel says, rolling her eyes, “you just arrive obscenely early.” 

“Trying to get the best seat,” Lilianne jokes, then falls silent. The war over the seat next to Lucas had been a long one, them somehow interchanging per class all three of them share. English was Hazel’s, AP Science being Lilianne’s, and lunch depending on whoever arrived first.

Hazel sobers instantly, “Guess that’s not for either of us,” she says. 

Lilianne nods, looking down at her feet. She’s surprised to see a door stopper next to her right shoe. She looks up. They’re at the doorway.

Hazel glances up when she realises they’ve stopped. She looks to the door handle, then Lilianne, and then back at the door handle. 

Lilianne is decidedly not going to be the one to open the door. Her pride can not take it. Hazel is closer to the handle anyway. 

Hazel is definitely not opening the door for Lilianne. She stares at the handle, making absolutely no move towards it. 

Lilianne scoffs after a moment, tightening her grip on her bag. Just when she’s about to say something—

The door swings open. 

“Madame President,” the teacher greets, obviously irritated, “and Madame Secretary. So good of you to join us.” 

Lilianne’s eyes dart to the wall clock, then she winces in unison with Hazel. Five minutes late, how did that happen?

“I’m so sorry,” Hazel blurts, and Lilianne relaxes, just a tiny bit. Hazel glances at Lilianne quickly, just a flicker of a look, but enough to say let me handle this. “We were held up because of some council work we had to drop off at the office.” 

She smiles apologetically, but through her teeth Lilianne can see a glint of something shining. Silver tongue, Lilianne had scoffed when Lucas tried to explain, she could see straight through Hazel Ivanes, and had assumed everyone else could.

She knows better now.

The teacher eyes them critically, and Lilianne stares right back. 

“Don’t let it happen again,” he says, then turns around, “take a seat.”

Lilianne sees Hazel grin in her peripheral vision, but doesn’t try her luck by looking. She scans the room. There are only two empty seats left, right next to each other, and their table mates would be—

“Lilianne! Hazel!” Lucas calls, waving them over with Mia at his right side. 

She hears Hazel sigh, a tiny puff of breath that makes her want to laugh, but not really. Not at all actually. 

She starts walking towards them, feeling like she’s about to fuck herself right over. “Morning,” she says. The omission of the good is intentional. This is in no way a good morning. She hears   
Hazel echo the greeting. Hazel sits down closer than she usually would, and Lilianne pretends not to notice.

“You’re late,” Mia observes. No shit, Lilianne wants to say, the teacher just called me out in front of everyone.

“Really?” Hazel asks sarcastically. It sounds like a joke, but Lilianne can hear the real irritation hiding in the timbres of her voice, “I hadn’t noticed.” 

“I thought we were right on time,” Lilianne adds, pretending to be shocked and checking her watch.

Lucas and Mia laugh. Lilianne lets her bag hit the ground. It produces a soft thud. 

“We’re doing a group project,” Lucas informs them when he finishes, smiling lightly, “we volunteered to take you two troublemakers in.” 

“Thank you,” Hazel says emphatically, glancing at the other groups. It’s clear everyone here chose to take their friends, and she can see multiple groups that would definitely sink and drown. It’s not that anyone’s stupid, it is AP Science after all, but they’re all distracted already and no one is taking notes.

“What are we doing?”

“Science fair,” Mia says, grimacing. 

Lilianne blinks, “That’s…” she says, trailing off, both shocked and slightly delighted at the same time. 

“Keep it in your pants, Madame President,” Hazel comments wryly. Lilianne has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from hitting her. 

“We’re going to ace this,” she says, confident and doubtless. 

“Details first,” Lucas chides, “I’ll add all of you guys to a group chat and we can decide where to meet.” 

“Or,” Hazel starts without looking up, “we could totally just decide right now. We have like 30 minutes left, so.” 

“She’s right,” Lilianne says, “and anyway, we can just meet at my place. It’s roughly 30 minutes away and we can go straight after we finish school, after that initial meeting we’ll have agreed on all the details.” 

“I’m sorry, did you just agree with Hazel?” Lucas jokes, smiling widely. Hazel rolls her eyes and Lilianne can’t help the short laugh that escapes her. 

“It’s a small thing,” Lilianne says, but is surprised to find herself vaguely pleased. 

"Okay so I'll drive Hazel, Mia and I over to your place," Lucas says, grinning, and he probably thinks he's doing both Lilianne and Hazel a favour for it because to Lucas and Mia, Lilianne and Hazel still hate each other.

Hazel freezes, Lilianne can actually see her stop breathing. 

“It’s okay Hazel,” Mia chuckles, misreading the reaction and leaning over to rest a hand on Hazel’s. The movement causes the entire table to shift, Hazel closer to Lilianne to lean into it and Lucas into her personal space, “we won’t let you be a third wheel.” 

Hazel closes her eyes and smiles, too wide. Fake. She nods once, twice, then stops before she gets to three. 

Lilianne takes in a deep breath, and for a horrible, cruel second, considers letting it happen. Still, as soon as she sees Hazel forcing a breath out of her incredibly still lips, she knows she can’t. 

“I’ll take her,” Lilianne blurts. Fuck. Why would I do that? 

Lucas and Mia look at her in shock. 

Why did I do that?

Hazel’s eyes find hers and she sends Lilianne an unadulteratedly grateful look. 

Right. 

“Yes,” Hazel says, forcing a light tone, “I think it’d be easier if we just left together, we’re in the same building for last subject anyway. Plus, Lilianne and I finished the room clearing project awhile ago so you and Mia actually get out a little later than us rather than the same time.”

“You two can come after,” Lilianne suggests, relieved that Hazel is taking the reigns, “it’s easier that way.”

Lucas continues to gape. 

"We'll be fine," Hazel assures. 

Lucas sends her a bizarre look, but doesn’t protest further.

___

“Hey,” Lilianne hears before feeling a tug at the end of her sleeve. She turns, but just a bit. She’s surprised to find that she has to look down to see Hazel. _Have I always been that much taller than her? _

“Hi,” Lilianne says after what must be a moment too long. Hazel doesn’t seem to mind. 

Lucas and Mia left faster than them, hand in hand, and Lilianne lingers because she doesn’t want to walk down the hallway seeing that. Hazel does the same, and Lilianne doesn’t mention it. 

“I wanted to thank you,” she starts, shrugging and looking away, “you didn’t have to do that.” She sounds indifferent, as casual as she always is, but Lilianne knows too well that it can’t be real. Lilianne herself is running on nothing more than bravado. She’s careful to avoid looking in Hazel’s direction because if it were her she’d rather Hazel not pay attention. 

“I kind of did,” Lilianne says, because it’s true. Lilianne opens her bag slowly, surprised to find that she doesn’t mind Hazel’s company.

Hazel looks away and hopes Lilianne doesn’t turn to her because she can actually feel her cheeks heating up. 

“No,” Hazel attempts a smirk, but it falls just short and looks wrong, “don’t let me off the hook. You could have let it happen to me,” she tries to joke. 

Lilianne notices, of course, just like she always notices, and she knows she has to do something about it. 

“Just like you could have let it happen to me,” Lilianne says, turning around and resting a hand on the table before she can talk herself out of it. Lilianne has never had any trouble with having Hazel follow orders, but that’s in work, Hazel knows when and how to fall in line to please her, but outside of work, they’re free agents. Lilianne doesn’t have anything over them, which is why it feels so new and out of place trying something like this. 

She always lets Hazel get away with teasing her, talking back, even taunting her because it’s wrong to use her position to undermine her, and it feels foreign to even try to exert the power she has, but Hazel needs to hear it, and needs to see Lilianne resolute in what she says. She’s hesitant in a way Lilianne has never seen her before, and she can’t have that. She needs Hazel Ivanes, and Hazel Ivanes does not falter.

They’re toe to toe, and Lilianne straightens to her full height, can feel Hazel inch back. She doesn’t actually step away, because her pride can’t handle that, but Lilianne knows she’s leaning away. Hazel’s eyes drop to her arm, then dart towards the door. Lilianne can’t help but feel at least a tiny hint of satisfaction from the act. 

Lilianne watches as Hazel wrestles to rise to her, obviously surprised by the turn of events. She's really pretty like this, Lilianne thinks idly, and it's not a new thought. Not by any stretch of the imagination, she's probably thought about it just as many times as she's thought about the Student Council because thinking about the Student Council means thinking about Hazel and thinking about Hazel means thinking she's pretty. It's natural, honestly, it's fact. She's never even once tried denying she finds Hazel pretty. She doesn't show it, of course, but isn't it obvious? Is there anyone who could think of Hazel as any less than attractive? 

So Lilianne lets herself stare. Just a little. Maybe gets a little lost in it for a second, forgets where she is and what she's doing. 

That's her mistake, because Hazel never misses a weakness, and never misses her shot.

One second Lilianne is waiting on Hazel to gather herself.

The next, Hazel is stepping closer, smiling in a way that's almost certainly unfair, rebuilt. 

"It's cute, how hard you're trying," Hazel says, pats Lilianne's hand, and moves past her. 

Despite herself, Lilianne finds herself grinning.

___

_What was she trying to do?_ Hazel isn’t embarrassed to say that she’s been agonising over it for a while now. _Why was she acting like that, what the fuck?_ Lilianne seemed almost like she wanted to get a rise out of Hazel, and it was working. _She put her hand on the table and I felt intimidated_, Hazel marvels internally, _intimidated by Lilianne Fucking Grace, who, if she wasn’t the President, wouldn’t have an intimidating bone in her body_. Hazel grits her teeth, _what the fuck was that?_

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Mia asks her, bumping her shoulder against Hazel’s. Hazel jolts, then chuckles, as genuinely as she can. 

“Lilianne,” she says, not bothering to pretend. She doesn’t see any reason to lie. Lucas raises an eyebrow. 

“It was weird earlier,” he acknowledges, hedging at something, “she was really insistent on driving you.”

“I don’t see why that’s weird,” Hazel says, even though she definitely sees why it’s weird. 

“You don’t?” Mia questions, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

“No, I don’t,” Hazel says, because she does.

“You two stuck around a little later after class too,” Lucas points out, smirking slightly. 

“Figuring out where to meet after class,” Hazel lies, voice smooth and sure, not a hint of a sign that she’s completely bullshitting, “didn’t know where her class was.”

“That why she was pinning you up close to the table?” Lucas jokes. Hazel forces herself not to freeze, but she knows there’s a small hitch in her step because she sees how Lucas grins even wider. 

“She wasn’t pinning me,” Hazel laughs, it comes out just a little high and wire-y, but it’s otherwise the same. Good, she coaches herself silently, play it off, you’re fine, “it must’ve looked like that, sure, but she was just putting her hand on the table. She was messing with you because she knew you were watching us,” she continues, “weirdo,” she adds after a second, much too affectionately. She tries not to wince.

“Really?” Mia cuts in, “you and Lilianne are okay enough to joke with each other now?” 

“We’ve always been joking with each other,” Hazel responds, stopping when she realises she’s just walked past her classroom. Lucas and Mia look at her weirdly, and she realises she’s just stopped talking in the middle of her thought, “it’s just a little less mean-spirited now,” she hastens to add before beginning to walk again, deciding that it’s too late to go back now and her attendance will just have to suffer in the place of her pride. 

“What happened?” Lucas asks, some semblance of a serious question in his tone despite the comical way he presents it. 

Hazel watches Mia and Lucas’ intertwined hands swinging between them for a second, too many things happened, too many things changed, she answers in her head, but can’t bring herself to say out loud. 

“We got over it,” Hazel says, she checks her watch, even though she already knows the time and knows she’s definitely late, she pretends to be surprised, “I have to go,” she says apologetically, but not really. Not at all, actually. Lucas and Mia say their quick goodbyes and Hazel turns down what is distinctly the wrong hallway, despite knowing that it does not lead where she wants to go, just to go the opposite direction. 

When she’s far enough inside the crowd, she looks back and watches them walk away. As soon as they turn the corner, she hurries to go down her actual path.


	7. Chapter 7

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Hazel says sarcastically as Lilianne sidles up next to her, shifting to side as they fall into step. 

“Shut up,” Lilianne says, and it sounds so much like an order that Hazel actually has to try not to. “Would you rather you go to lunch alone? And sit with them? Alone?” 

“Well if I’m sitting with them then I’m not alone, aren’t I?” Hazel retorts, smirking. 

“Oh my—I can’t handle this, goodbye,” Lilianne says, walking away so fast Hazel has to catch her arm first. Lilianne stops surprisingly easily, and Hazel can see a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips. 

“That was funny,” Hazel says, “you know that was funny, don’t try me.” 

“It was definitely not funny,” Lilianne says, shrugging off Hazel’s hand but not stepping away, leaving them a few inches too close. Hazel doesn’t back off, because after the incident in the classroom she can’t back down without looking like a coward. 

“You’re smiling,” Hazel points out, poking Lilianne in the shoulder and beginning to walk again.

Lilianne snorts, “Only because I was already in a good mood before this,” she says. 

“What could be the cause of this good mood, I wonder,” Hazel says, rolling her eyes, “it’s been a terrible day so far, and I can think of no redemption for it.”

“We get to participate in the science fair,” Lilianne says, like it’s so obvious she can’t believe Hazel didn’t already know. She’s wide-eyed and so serious about it Hazel feels a bubble of laughter rising in her chest, but her incredulity catches up first.

“What.” Hazel says, then holds up a hand as Lilianne opens her mouth to repeat herself, “What the hell? Are you being serious right now?” 

“As a heart attack,” Lilianne says, tilting her head to the side. Hazel is, oddly enough, reminded of a puppy. 

“Oh my god,” Hazel says, pressing a hand to her chest, she can actually feel her heart giving way. It’s too weak. “Oh my god, Lilianne—I literally can’t handle you right now. I’m going to have a stroke.” 

“Why—”

Hazel snorts, then forces her lips to close tightly, “The fact that you’re asking me why just makes it more—Christ,” Hazel can no longer help the laugh that bursts from her, unbidden, her knees feel weak. 

“You’re top of the class in Science,” Lilianne says haughtily, “you have to have at least a little bit of enthusiasm for this.” 

Hazel straightens, resting a hand on Lilianne’s offered arm, she tries to speak, but she can’t even draw the breath that it takes to respond. 

“Take your time,” Lilianne says, eyeing her in distaste before rolling her eyes. Despite this, she keeps holding Hazel up, “it’s not like we have a limited amount of time for lunch or anything.” 

Hazel finally straightens, shouldering her bag, she tries to dampen her smile, but it just keeps getting wider, “Of course I’m excited,” Hazel says, grinning so widely it hurts her cheeks.

“Then why are you laughing?” Lilianne asks, and then opens the door for Hazel. 

Hazel forces herself not to acknowledge the action, but can’t help the satisfaction that blooms in her chest from it. “You’re just such a nerd,” she says, “I can’t believe I never noticed before.” 

“No,” Lilianne says carefully, “we were too busy fighting then.”

Hazel suddenly notices the absolute quiet that has surrounded them. She quickly retracts her hand, then surreptitiously looks around the room. The lunch room isn’t very packed, this is the lunch that most overachievers have, it being the only free block manageable with all of their classes. Still, it’s enough that it’s suspicious to have the entire crowd completely silent. 

The entire place gets a bit more quiet than it was, no one is looking at them but it’s very deliberate, you know, the way a crowd does when they don’t want you to know they’re all looking at you. A normal crowd would turn to look at who entered, and that just further cements the fact that they were all talking about them before they came in and are now, very purposefully, pretending they weren’t.

“Don’t mind them,” Lilianne says quietly, too low for anyone else to hear. It suddenly strikes her that this must be how it always is when she walks into a room.

“That's so fucking sad,” Hazel says, clenching her fist. Lilianne snorts.

“Don’t I know it,” she says, then pauses, “watch your language.” 

Hazel can’t stop herself from giggling, “Yes, Madame President,” she says, a little sarcastic, but a lot less mocking than she used to be. It’s like a joke now, Hazel feels a little privileged, knowing that Lilianne curses, knowing that she can make jokes about it, knowing she’s not actually perfect.

“Though,” Lilianne continues, pointedly ignoring the dig, “they’re different today from how they usually are.”

“I wonder why,” Hazel says, but avoids looking around, keeping Lilianne’s advice close to chest, “maybe it’s because we’re standing next to each other and not fighting.” 

“Probably,” Lilianne agrees, pushing forward and spotting Lucas and Mia feeding each other at the usual table. Hazel ducks her head and steps a bit closer to Lilianne, even though she knows it only makes them look weirder. Lilianne doesn’t even blink at the intrusion on her personal space, and actually shifts to allow her closer. “Ready?” Lilianne asks, sounding like she’s preparing to break down the doors of Olympus. 

Hazel snorts. They sit down at the table, smiling and nodding at Lucas and Mia’s greetings and ignoring the curious stares that accompany them. 

Mia leans over to wipe something off Lucas’ face, and they seem so in love that Hazel almost can’t help the anger that bubbles in her chest. She makes a split second decision. 

If they’re going to be a unit, so are we, she thinks, spitefully, a line of flutters rising from her stomach to her chest. 

“I’m getting a burger, do you want anything?” Hazel asks Lilianne, pulling her wallet out. Lilianne looks up as though it only just occurred to her that it’s lunch and she has to eat. 

“A pasta plate,” Lilianne says, probably a few seconds too slow if the amused smirk Hazel is sporting is any indication, “and an iced tea,” she continues, pulling out her wallet. 

“My treat,” Hazel says firmly, putting a hand over the one Lilianne extends. Lilianne frowns and pushes but Hazel curls her fingers and raises her eyebrows. 

“Why?” Lilianne asks, genuinely curious. 

“You can pay for lunch tomorrow,” Hazel dismisses easily, turning and walking away before Lilianne can protest further, leaving everyone at the table dumbfounded. 

“What is going on between you two?” Lucas asks incredulously. 

“I have absolutely no idea,” Lilianne admits, watching as Hazel proceeds to the counter, pointing at Lilianne’s least favourite type of pasta sauce. Hazel turns, as though she can feel Lilianne’s stare. She meets Lilianne’s gaze purposefully, grins, then winks. 

Lilianne’s insides feel like they’re on fire. 

A strangled sound makes its way out of Mia’s throat and Lucas gapes. 

Lilianne shakes her head, pulling two notebooks out of her backpack and beginning to rewrite the notes from the first notebook in the second, pointedly ignoring Lucas and Mia’s reactions. She’s used to people staring at her, and soon enough, she completely forgets where she is.

“Your food,” Hazel suddenly appears from the side, placing a tray in front of her startling Lilianne so badly she nearly drops her pen.

“Thanks,” Lilianne says absently, focused on trying to understand a little phrase on her notebook. 

“That says non-binary,” Hazel says, barely having to glance at what Lilianne is so focused on. Lilianne looks up and blinks a couple times, slowly realising that yes, that’s right.

“How—”

“If you think that I spent a year recopying your hurried meeting notes and haven’t learned your messy handwriting, you must think I’m absolutely incompetent,” Hazel grins, “I can read it better than I can read my own. You take a lot of notes, Pres.”

“It’s true,” Lucas says, “I think your hand muscles would atrophy if you didn’t take down at least 600 words per day.”

“You really do,” Mia confirms, shying away from the look her words earn from Lilianne. 

Lilianne narrows her eyes, pointing at a random phrase in the notebook. Hazel takes a quick look before laughing, “Genderless or non-conforming,” Hazel says, “trust me, I was freaked out by it the first time I realised too.” 

“That’s really weird,” Lilianne agrees. 

“Tell me you wouldn’t recognise my handwriting anywhere,” Hazel challenges, “I bet you could actually forge it.”

Lilianne opens her mouth to argue, before realising she’s right. “Right,” Lilianne blurts, despite never wanting to ever admit Hazel is right in anything. Stupid, she thinks to herself as Hazel grins even wider. Lilianne suddenly wishes Lucas and Mia would interrupt.

“Eat first,” Hazel says, graciously letting it go and pushing the tray closer, “it’ll get cold and you can do that later anyway.”

“One more page,” Lilianne promises.

“No,” Hazel says, pulling at Lilianne’s writing hand, “let’s get drinks and then you can eat.” Hazel suggests. 

“When do I rewrite these notes then?” Lilianne asks, frowning.

“After you eat, which means we better hurry if you want to complete those notes,” Hazel says, raising both eyebrows and nodding at the drinks section. 

“Why didn’t you get for me?” Lilianne grunts, standing and trying not to look surprised when Hazel links their arms, pulling her along. 

Once they are out of earshot from Lucas and Mia, Lilianne pulls her closer and hides her mouth in the ripples of Hazel’s hair. 

"Just what are you playing at, Hazel?" Lilianne hisses, tightening her grip slightly on Hazel's arm. It's not enough to hurt, but it's definitely enough. 

Hazel sighs, "Can we have this conversation somewhere else?"


End file.
